


a moonlit sky (a starlit fate)

by SparkleMoose



Series: starlit fates [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fake Science, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parkour, Platonic Relationships, SI!Prompto, Science Experiments, There Might Be a Ship Later Though Who Knows, parental neglect, supportive friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-05-10 03:30:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14729123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkleMoose/pseuds/SparkleMoose
Summary: Prompto is an odd child. His gaze too serious, his quiet demeanour unnerving most.Prompto is an odd child. Largely due to the fact he isn't supposed to be one.(OR a Prompto SI no one wanted but I'm giving you anyway. Have fun.)





	1. race (toward the sun)

**‘ we begin in the dark and birth is the death of us.'**

**\- anne carson, antigonick**

* * *

 

Prompto had always been an odd child. Unusually shy for his age, he stuck to the corner seats in class and did his best to not attract attention.

 

That wasn’t the unusual part, not really, what was unusual was how the boy was rarely seen studying yet passed all his tests with flying colours. How he wears a wristband on his right wrist and never seems to take it off. What’s more unusual is his eyes, they are piercing things, ocean blue and when they look at you it’s almost as though an old soul is staring at you from within them.

 

Prompto himself doesn’t seem to notice how he unnerves most adults. How his lack of expression makes him odd. He doesn’t seem to be bothered by the other children bullying him and doesn’t make an effort to be friends with others. He is a serious child, with too wide eyes that look as though they’ve seen too much and people look at him and wonder if he’s alright.

 

His parents have long since given up on their too serious and all around an odd child. They begin spending less time at the house they share with Prompto, taking more hours at work and even leaving Insomnia for weeks at a time. Prompto himself doesn’t seem to mind if anything he adapts to their absence so well that nobody realizes that he’s raising himself.

 

Prompto never mentions his parents, and his teachers never think to ask.

 

* * *

 

If Prompto is honest with himself, he’s rather glad that his parents don’t seem to care about him. It makes things easier on him, he doesn’t have to act like an actual child around them.

 

Not that he had before, but slipping up and having the couple who thought they’d be getting a normal child realize that something is definitely not right with the Imperial orphan they adopted out of the goodness of their hearts is not something that Prompto wants to deal with; now or ever.

 

Besides, it’s not as though Prompto can exactly tell them that he becomes fully aware at three-months-old and can remember everything up till his current point in life. Prompto knows that wouldn’t go over well, just as he knows telling them that seeing Cor fucking Leonis pick him up out of a crib and the flood of memories from a past life is what made him become fully aware in the first place.

 

Prompto isn’t supposed to know that he was rescued from a Magitek facility, he isn’t supposed to know what the barcode on his wrist means that he was supposed to be an MT and he sure as hell isn’t supposed to remember Cor Leonis making silly faces at him to calm him down from the panic attack that ensued when Prompto remembered his own death.

 

Prompto’s life is a shitshow, okay, he knows this. He knows this very well. So well in fact, that in an effort to get it to not be as big of a shitshow he came up with a rule that he intends to follow no matter what.

 

The rule? Don’t get involved in the plot.

 

Of course; he breaks the rule.

 

* * *

 

Prompto should have taken his love of dogs into consideration.

 

He really should have taken his love of dogs into consideration because if he did he wouldn’t have received a letter from Lunafreya Nox Fleurent asking him to be Noctis’ friend.

 

Prompto rips the letter in half, sets it on fire and flushes the ashes down the toilet.

 

He ignores the way his stomach clenches in guilt.

 

* * *

 

Prompto gets another letter that he burns without reading, then another, then another until finally, he looks at the dog that delivered it and sighs loudly.

 

“Your mistress doesn’t know when to give up,” Prompto tells Pryna, “She knows about my situation doesn’t she?” Pryna tilts her head and her tail begins wagging, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

 

Prompto gets up from his spot on the lawn of his house, he’s thirteen now and has lost quite a bit of weight since the first letter appeared. Whether he lost the weight because he felt guilty for denying the plot its right to him or because he felt that shit could start at any moment is anyone's guess; Prompto himself doesn’t know. Still, Prompto is now faster and stronger than he’s ever been in this life.

 

In his past life he had been a free runner, and in this life, if there is one thing that remains true to canon it’s that Prompto loves technology and the arts so Prompto is determined to take up free running again so he can get some awe-inspiring shots.

 

Putting the thoughts of photos from places others can’t reach without the use of flight or warping, Prompto turns back into his house, gets a marker from his drawer of scissors and stuff he’ll probably need later, writes ‘LEAVE ME ALONE’ on the back of the envelope the letter is in and heads back outside to where Pryna is waiting as if she knows there will be a response this time.

 

“Here,” he says to the dog, sliding the envelope back into Pryna’s collar, “Please tell her to leave me alone in case the message doesn’t get through.”

 

Pryna barks and takes off down an alley.

 

Prompto hopes that’s the end of that.

 

* * *

 

It is, to Prompto’s annoyance, not the end of that. Another letter comes, attached to Pryna’s collar. It’s not in an envelope this time, Prompto notes, just a piece of lined paper tucked underneath Pryna’s collar.

 

Prompto takes it from underneath her collar and something, curiosity maybe, compels to read it.

 

He smiles in spite of himself.

 

_ You’re kind of rude, aren’t you? - L.N.F _

 

* * *

 

_ You’re the one that kept sending letters. - P.A. _

 

_ Maybe I just wanted a friend. - L.N.F. _

 

_ You have the Prince. - P.A _

 

_ Unlike you I am actually a child, I need more than one friend. - L.N.F.  _

 

_ You know how to pull at someone's heartstrings, don’t you? - P.A. _

 

_ Friends? - L.N.F. _

 

_ Friends. I hope you realize this means I get to spam you with the art shit I make. - P.A. _

 

* * *

 

The letters between Prompto and Luna continue and Prompto finds himself looking forward to them. He enjoys reading the letters from Luna, her snark is wonderful and Prompto finds himself encouraging it. Luna also serves as the recipient of various things Prompto creates, nothing that will raise suspicion of course, but he sends her photographs of flowers, of the paintings he creates that he can’t show her in person.

 

They’re friends; and for the first time since he became aware of the world around him, Prompto finds he doesn’t mind the thought of having a friend.

 

During the time between his fourteenth and fifteenth birthday, Prompto deems himself ready to pick up an old hobby.

 

He teaches himself freerunning again, it’s dangerous and exciting and Prompto finds himself wishing that he could share the photos he’s taken of Insomnia from up high with Luna.

 

One day, Prompto promises himself, he will.

 

* * *

 

 

Prompto gets a job when he’s fourteen. He doesn’t tell his parents.

 

It’s not as though they would care anyway. Still, the extra money he brings in helps pay for the repairs the roof needs and gives him some breathing room with bills and groceries.

 

His parents only give him enough to survive on, after all, no room for many extras.

 

It’s then he buys his first phone and his first, professional camera. If he splurges on some decent paints and other art supplies, he thinks he deserves it.

 

* * *

 

Prompto is fifteen when he meets Noctis, it’s an accident really, Prompto is relaxing up in a tree at lunch when he hears a commotion nearby. Moving through the branches, thankful that this tree is sturdy enough to hold him with the amount of weight he’s lost, Prompto squints as he comes across a shocking sight.

 

Prince Noctis, the future king of Lucis, is being bullied.

 

The shock almost makes Prompto fall off his tree. Instead, he meets the prince’s gaze, places a finger to his lips in the universal ‘stay quiet’ gesture and hurriedly climbs down the tree to help Noctis.

 

The bullies don't notice him

 

The thought of leaving doesn’t even cross Prompto’s mind.

 

“Hey guys,” Prompto says far too cheerfully to the older boys, seniors Prompto thinks, that are bullying Noctis, “Did you know that picking on kids younger than you is a sign that you’re _huge dumbasses_ who are threatened by anyone you even think might be more important than you?” Prompto takes great joy in watching how the bullies faces turn bright red as they move to face Prompto.

 

Then, because being an asshole is fun sometimes and he needs to make sure they take the bait, Prompto adds. “Then again, I’m sure _ants_ serve our society more than you do. Hell, _dog shit_ probably does too.” One of the bullies lunge at Prompto and Prompto dodges to the right.

 

“If you want me,” Prompto says turning on his heels and taking off, “Come and get me.”

 

The bullies give chase.

 

Prompto grins.

 

* * *

 

Prompto doesn’t see Noctis outside of class for the rest of the day.

 

He tells himself he isn’t avoiding the prince. It’s a lie of course, but he doesn’t want to think about the fact that he just likely landed head first in a steaming pile of plot.

 

At the end of the day, Prompto is the first out of his desk as the bell rings and rushes to shove his stuff in his locker before leaving the school grounds as quickly as possible.

 

When he gets home, he does his homework, eats leftover pasta from the night before, and throws himself into bed early.

 

That night, Prompto dreams.

  
  



	2. heavens gate

Prompto dreams of his escape. Of being held close to Cor’s chest and listening to his pounding heart as Cor sneaked out of the facility that Prompto had been born in.

The memory turned dream stops as they pass Shiva’s corpse. Prompto remembers this, remembers the giant corpse of the Glacian as Cor and the rest of the small Insomnia entourage passed by it. He remembers staring into her dead eyes.

In the dream, the wind sings.

Shiva’s eyes glow.

Prompto wakes up in a cold sweat.

* * *

Prompto goes to school that day sustained by coffee and energy drink concoction that he’s fairly certain would have killed another person.

Having only gotten two hours of sleep last night the last thing he wants is to go to school. But he needs to go to school in order to keep his scholarship. So he does what any other person who died at twenty would do.

He shoves his well-being under the bus to attend class.

Prompto gets to his locker. Stares at the lock for a good minute trying to get his muddled brain to kick into gear, and then he finally reaches out and opens his locker.

He is so out of it, he almost forgets what happened yesterday.

Then he sees the prince. Noctis meets Prompto’s eyes.

Prompto spins on his heel and heads the other way.

* * *

As it turns out Prompto cannot avoid Noctis forever; no matter how much Prompto would like to. The universe itself seems to conspire against him and Prompto winds up lap partners with Noctis.

Prompto finds himself moving to sit by Noctis and resigns himself to spending the next hour to teaching the prince grade ten chemistry.

It’s not as bad as Prompto thought it would be. Noctis makes no mention of yesterday, and he seems to be competent enough student that Prompto only has to explain things once or twice before he gets it. They work well together, Prompto finds, and while they mostly work in silence, only speaking to confirm that they got the same answers.

It’s when the bell rings, signalling that they leave for lunch does Noctis speak just as Prompto goes to move from his chair.

“Hey,” Noctis says, and sounds as awkward as Prompto currently feels, “Thanks for yesterday.”

Prompto blinks, it’s not what he expected the prince to say, then again he had been so focused on not interacting with Noctis that he hadn’t really thought of what Noctis would say to him.

“Uh,” Prompto says scratching the back of his head, “No problem?”

Noctis stands up and shifts awkwardly. The entire situation is awkward. Prompto had forgotten how shitty and awkward being a teenager was. He doesn’t like the fact he has to relive it.

There’s silence between them for a moment, Noctis unsure of how to act around his classmate and Prompto unsure of the protocol for brushing off a prince.

Eventually, Prompto blurts out:

“Wanna have lunch together?” He isn’t sure why he’s asking the prince this but to be honest he would have done anything to get rid of the awkward tension between them. That and Noctis, from what Prompto has observed thus far is far more lonely than a kid his age should be and it tugs at Prompto’s heartstrings.

Besides, what harm can spending half an hour with the prince do?

Noctis’ eyes widen. “Sure?” he says and it sounds more like a question than an answer but Prompto takes it as an answer anyway.

“Great,” Prompto says, gathering his things and aiming to sound more cheerful than he is. Somehow he manages to throw a genuine smile toward the prince and when they exit the classroom. For some reason, their lockers are closer to each other than Prompto originally thought and Prompto finds himself blaming Plot Shit for that coincidence.

Still, Prompto takes out his lunch, which consists of an apple, a sandwich because Prompto makes damn fucking good sandwiches okay, and like a cheese string.

He’s sure Ignis has made something better for Noctis than what Prompto has and if he didn’t have the memories of a past life stuck in his head he might feel a bit self-conscious. As it is, he does have the memories of a past life in his head so he doesn’t.

The one thing about dying at twenty is that he had already learned that concerning himself with whether or not he’d fit in at school is basically bullshit because teenagers are weird and fickle and Prompto really hates the fact that puberty is once again making him weird and fickle.

Rolling his eyes at his own thoughts because what did he expect? It’s puberty, it makes everyone weird and fickle. Prompto turns and wanders over to Noctis.

“Hey, dude,” Prompto says, “Wanna head back to class and eat before time runs out?”

Noctis blinks. “Uh,” he goes, “Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

They have lunch together and it’s not as awkward as Prompto thought it was going to be. There are awkward silences, sure, but mostly they just talk.

And it’s weird talking to Noctis, to the King of Light, like he’s a friend but Prompto somehow winds up doing it and eventually, the subject turns to King’s Knight which Prompto admits is a guilty pleasure of his.

“Dude,” Noctis says, a light shining in his eyes that has Prompto grinning, “What’s your username?”

“It’s Apollo,” Prompto says, then watches as Noctis whips out his phone, “What are you doing?”

Noctis pauses, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “Uh,” he says, “Is it okay if I add you as a friend?”

Prompto blinks. “Dude,” he goes, “It’s totally fine. Just tell me your user so I know who I’m adding.”

Noctis grins. “It’s Hypnos,” he says and Prompto can’t help but laugh as his own phone buzzes with the friend request from Noctis.

Prompto adds him without a second thought.

It’s only when he gets home from school that afternoon after spending the day chatting with Noctis between classes does Prompto realize that he might have made a friend.

Fuck.

* * *

The next day it’s Noctis that approaches him at lunch. He looks unsure of himself, which is weird, but Prompto supposes that friendships might not be the prince’s thing.

So Prompto starts chatting.

“We on for lunch again today?” Prompto asks, sliding his books into his locker. And watching the tension drain from Noctis’ shoulders.

“Yeah,” Noctis say, “That sounds great.”

* * *

_Luna fucking help me I made friends with the Prince - P.A_

_That’s a good thing! You both need friends! - L.N.F_

_Rude. - P.A._

* * *

It’s been a week since Prompto had met Noctis and while they haven’t hung out outside of school yet Prompto thinks the weird friendship they have is going pretty well. The friendship is weird because Prompto doesn’t have Noctis’ phone number and when he had tried to give Noctis his Noctis had scowled and said something about security measures and looked surprised when Prompto had laughed.

“Well,” Prompto had joked after, “Knew that being your friend would be kinda weird, you are a prince after all. Still, it’s worth it since I get to kick your ass at King’s Knight every day.”

It’s been a week since Prompto has met Noctis and when he dreams.

* * *

Prompto comes to the conclusion that this is one fucked up dream. Then again, any dream one has about their own death is bound to be fucked up.

Before Prompto had died, before he had been reborn, he had been a twenty-year-old freelance writer that had been brutally murdered. To this day Prompto still couldn’t figure out what had caused the father he hadn’t seen in over ten years to show up and stab their son but that is what happened. Prompto had bled to death on his own kitchen floor.

He remembers hearing his father speak to him, but he doesn’t remember the words.

He’s fairly certain he doesn’t want to.

This is the first dream Prompto has had about his death, about his former life, in a long time. The last time having been the night he and Luna had become friends since then the dreams of his former life have dwindled while the dreams of his death had vanished completely.

To say Prompto thinks it’s odd to be dreaming about his death after all this time is an understatement. He watches as his old body shifts, morphs into his current body and how his father turns into a man Prompto only remembers seeing through T.V. screens.

Verstael stands over Prompto as he dies; a cruel smile on his face. Verstael leans over Prompto’s body and as Prompto takes his last breath whispers something that chills Prompto to the bone.

“A perfect soldier,” Verstael says, and it sounds as though he’s giving a report to someone other than Prompto, “Doesn’t need to learn, nor does he need to die.”

As soon as those words are out of his mouth the dream changes, Prompto is suddenly in a snow-capped cityscape. Highrises towering above him and snowflakes falling gently from the sky.

Prompto would know that sight anywhere. It’s his old city, the one he had grown up in. It’s not Insomnia but a the city where Prompto had spent the majority of his first life.

He has nothing but good memories of this city.

“That is why I chose it,” a voice comes from his left, Prompto spins to face it and stumbles backwards a few steps at what he sees.

It’s a woman with blue skin that shimmers like light reflecting off snow, floating a foot off the ground she glides toward Prompto and stops when she’s just in front of him.

It’s Shiva, the not panicking part of his brain supplies, show respect, kneel or something.

The rest of Prompto’s brain, too occupied with freaking out over the presence of an Astral in his dream, does not heed that advice.

“What the fuck?” is what comes out instead, and Prompto would be more concerned about swearing in front of an Astral but he’s on a roll, “What the fuck am I doing here? What the fuck are you doing here? What the fuck is going on?”

Shiva merely raises a delicate eyebrow at Prompto’s cussing. “Not quite the reaction I usually get,” she notes, her voice cold and amused.

“Well, it should be! What kind of divine being just drops into someone's dreams?” As soon as Prompto says this he remembers every story he’s ever read about divine beings dropping into people's dreams, “You know what?” Prompto says, “Never mind.”

Shiva laughs a cold breeze bursts through the cityscape at her laughter.

Prompto doesn’t shiver.

“Oh, child,” Shiva says, “You are quite amusing. I believe we chose well.”

“What do you mean by chose?” Prompto asks, suddenly wary of the goddess in front of him.

“You know of the prophecy,” Shiva says, her feet touching the ground gently, “We Astrals have watched as the Scourge takes humanity. Have watched as it devours the light of the world,” Here Shiva pauses and walks up to Prompto, “We are tired of it.”

“And?” Prompto asks, “What do you expect me to do about it?”

“You captured our attention when your soul was torn from its resting place and placed within a babe,” Shiva notes, “You have knowledge of events that could come to pass, you have the knowledge to change what will happen.”

Prompto tenses, she’s right, Prompto knows this. He could change everything by just refusing to befriend Noctis or he could go with the plot and let it direct him. Until now he didn’t think there were other options but-

“You’re saying,” Prompto says, realization dawning on him, “You want me to prevent what happened from happening.”

Shiva nods, pleased. “Indeed,” she says, “You are an anomaly, one we did not plan for. One that should not exist. But that is a boon in disguise, for you have the power to break the prophecy before the Long Night.”

It’s a lot to take in. Prompto is fifteen, well, his body is anyway, so he has five years before canon starts, about six years before the Long Night falls. Prompto is fifteen and being tasked with something monumental.

He’s not sure if he can do; because it’s not a question of if he should do it, but a question of if he can do it. Prompto made up his mind the moment he realized that Insomnia, Insomnia that was so like his old city, would fall and take millions of lives with it. Prompto’s own moral code will not allow for him to stand back and do nothing while that happens.

“How?” Prompto asks, “How am I supposed to do that?”

“How did Dawn come?” Shiva answers a question with a question, “The King needn’t die. But a sacrifice still must be made.”

“You want me to die.” Shiva doesn’t answer but looks at him with something like pity in her gaze.

Prompto hates that he understands it, that the life of someone who has already died is nothing compared to the thousands, to the millions of lives he could save by taking the Scourge from Ardyn and into himself. Prompto hates that he knows his choice before he even speaks to agree with Shiva’s plan.

“Alright,” he says, “But who would I call upon to kill me?”

“Us,” Shiva says, “When the time comes, you will call upon us to end your life. To send you back to your final resting place.”

Prompto closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens his eyes again.

“So,” Prompto says, “Guess I should start working on my will, huh?”

* * *

Prompto wakes up to find Pryna on his bed and looking at him with sorrowful eyes.

He laughs until his voice is hoarse and reaches out to pet her.

“It’s okay, girl,” he says, “We all die sometime, right? I’ll just be doing it sooner rather than later.”

Pryna whines and wiggles her way into his arms.

Prompto takes out a piece of paper with familiar handwriting on it out from under her collar.

He notices at once the paper is tearstained.

_Why? - L.N.F_

Prompto considers. Why did he agree to Shiva’s terms? Why did he agree to die for the greater good? Why?

Because someone had too, because he had already died once, because he couldn’t let Luna die because Luna is his friend and if he has to die to make sure that his friends remain safe then-

Then he’ll do it.

_Because someone has to. - P.A._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello this fic isnt dead neither am i! anyway, here, have some Plot Shit and Friendship and a higher word count.


End file.
